


The Missing Star

by melchimaus



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 10:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melchimaus/pseuds/melchimaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A New Directions reunion takes a turn for the dramatic when one of Kurt's brooches goes missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Missing Star

Blaine has just slid the door of the loft open, when a blur of dark hair rushes past him and collides with Mike, standing just outside in the hallway.  
   
“Mike, you're here!” Rachel squeals, hugging him tightly. Blaine smiles, and quietly takes Mike's suitcase from him, depositing it in the corner of the living area where Quinn and Puck's luggage was placed. When he returns to the doorway, Rachel has released Mike, but has started chattering incessantly. Mike's face shows genuine interest in what she has to say, but Blaine can tell that he's feeling tired from his trip.  
   
“ -- and of course, being in outer space, it's not like you can go out for a walk to clear your head, you're stuck with each in the space ship whether you like or not. So, my character, Star --” Mike raises his eyebrows slightly, but doesn't say anything. “-- desperately wants to make her relationship work, and one night, she has a dream about being in a desert, surrounded by --”  
   
“Hey, Rachel,” Blaine interrupts. Rachel jumps, and turns to look at him. “Why don't we let Mike come inside?”  
   
“Yeah, and _maybe_ we can talk about something _other_ than your stupid movie.” There's a click of heels walking down the hall and Santana appears wearing a cropped white t-shirt, knee high boots, and a scowl.  
   
Rachel scowls back. “Well _excuse me_ if a film that I had the privilege to be a part of is going to be shown at the _prestigious_ NYADA Summer Film Festival, where I may very well make valuable contacts who can help me --”  
   
“-- kick-start your precious career after or maybe even before you graduate from NYADA. I've heard it before Berry, and I _don't care_.” Santana rolls her eyes. “No wait, I _do_ care. Maybe you'll meet some creepy, middle-aged Broadway has-been who'll happily take you off our hands and to a sound stage filled with deaf people who can properly appreciate your ridiculous facial expressions without being subjected to your never-ending wailing.” Rachel's mouth drops open in shock, but Santana keeps talking. “Can we go in now?”  
   
The four of them make their way inside, Blaine lingering behind a little to shut the door. Santana immediately flops down into an armchair, while Quinn and Puck get up from the sofa to greet Mike. Puck grabs him into a tight hug that nearly lifts him off his feet, while Quinn leans in for a softer hug and a kiss on the cheek. They all take a seat on the sofa again, and Blaine and Rachel make themselves comfortable on a couple of bean bag chairs that they had bought specifically for the occasion.  
   
“So,” Santana says loudly before as Rachel can open her mouth. “How are you guys doing? Not you, Chipmunk.” She ignores Rachel and stares pointedly at the trio on the sofa. Rachel sniffs and crosses her arms.  
   
Quinn glances between them, but turns to Santana, and smiles. “Fine,” she says. “Yale's been great. It's a lot of work, but I'm doing well. It's worth it. And I've been elected secretary of the student union,” she adds, grinning widely. They all congratulate her, and she lifts her chin proudly at the praise.  
   
“Yeah, school's been fun,” Mike says. “One of my professors is considering me for a TA job next year for one of her Intro to Dance classes. Hopefully that'll give me a chance to work on my dancing instead of working on all those theory papers.” He sighs.  
   
“And that's why I didn't go to college,” Puck says smugly. “Who needs professors when you can be a self-taught artist?” He taps his temple. “Everything I need to know? Right here. If I keep churning out screenplays, eventually one of them has to be bought. It's karma.”  
   
Rachel sits up a little straighter. “What exactly are your screenplays about?”  
   
Puck sits back in the sofa and extends his legs out. Blaine scoots back a bit to give him room. “They're about anything and everything,” he explains, gesturing as he talks. “Gotta be creative if you wanna get noticed. Right now, I'm working on a mystery: some rich dude gets kidnapped and all his money is taken. Was it the wife? Or the chick he was banging on the side? Or maybe it was the driver.” He nods, satisfied. “Awesome, right?”  
   
“And do you have anyone in mind for one of those parts?” Rachel asks.  
   
Puck shrugs. “I'm still in the 'development stage'. Besides, LA's filled with wannabe actresses. They'll be beating down my door to get a part.”  
   
“Well, personally, I think LA actresses are a little superficial. It's New York that's full of true artists who appreciate their craft. Also, if you ever decided to turn your screenplay into a musical, you won't have to recast anyone.”  
   
“I don't know...” Mike and Blaine exchange a look, biting their lips to keep from laughing. Santana rolls her eyes.  
   
“So,” she interrupts loudly. “Is Kurt done making whatever it is that he's making for dinner?”  
   
“You have legs Santana, you can get up yourself and ask him,” says Rachel, her eyes still fixed on Puck, who is now looking around the loft like he's never seen it before.  
   
Quinn makes a sound that may have been a snort. Santana turns to glare at her. Quinn just smiles and excuses herself to go to the bathroom. Santana's glare follows her out. Mike fidgets.  
   
“Um, I'll go get him,” Blaine says, but is ignored. He gets up anyway and heads to the kitchen.  
   
Kurt is standing in front of the stove, apron on, stirring a large pot. Blaine can't resist coming up behind him and encircling his arms around his middle, head perched on his shoulder to look at what he's cooking.  
   
“Hi” Kurt says, turning to press a kiss to Blaine's forehead. “The risotto's almost done. If you want to start calling people to the table...”  
   
“In a minute” Blaine reples, watching as Kurt adds some chopped mint leaves into the pot. “I like having you to myself.” Kurt smiles and kisses him again. “Anything else I can do to help?”  
   
“Grab some bowls for me?” Blaine gives Kurt a light squeeze before moving away to root through the cupboards. He places them in a stack on the counter, then slowly lifts the whole pile up and carefully places them next to Kurt. Kurt laughs. “There's some feta in the fridge. Crumble some over the risotto when I've finished ladling. But --”  
“Don't put any on Rachel's” they finish together, and it's Blaine's turn to lean in and give Kurt a quick peck on the lips. “I know,” he says, smiling. They work quickly, Kurt humming softly, Blaine swaying along slightly to the melody. When they finish, they each pile a few bowls onto a tray and carry them to the dining table.  
   
“Dinner's ready!” Kurt calls. Santana yells “Finally!”, and the rest of their friends join them at the table.  
   
The meal is typical of any had by a group of friends who haven't seen each other in a long time. Blaine fills Kurt in on what everyone has been doing, and Kurt offers them his congratulations. They, in turn, compliment his cooking, and the conversation quickly delves into their experiences with school, work, and the downfalls of the public transportation system. Blaine notices that Puck is still gazing around the loft, focusing on seemingly random points on the walls and ceiling. When he catches him watching him, however, he only grins, and eats another spoonful of risotto.  
   
When they've all finished, Quinn offers to help clear up, but Rachel beats her to it. “You're our guest,” she reminds her. “And we are perfectly capable of handling it ourselves. Just relax.” She and Blaine load their bowls and utensils in the dishwasher. Kurt goes to the fridge to get dessert: a simple mango pudding accompanied by slices of strawberry.  
   
“So,” Puck says suddenly, once they are all sitting down again. “This loft is pretty old, isn't it?”  
   
Rachel and Kurt exchange confused looks. “Well, it's not historic, but yes, it was built a while ago,” Kurt says cautiously. “Why do you ask?”  
   
“It's the perfect setting for my screenplay”, Puck answers. “What better place to hide someone you've kidnapped than right in the middle of the city in an old deserted loft? Although,” he adds thoughtfully. “There wouldn't really be a place to hide the money in here would it? It's too bare.” He looks to Kurt for confirmation.  
   
Kurt's eyebrows furrow. “I guess? I've never really tried to hide anything here before.”  
   
Puck nods slowly. “Yeah. Would you mind if I took a look around? I might be able to find a loose board or a secret passage or something.”  
   
Kurt and Rachel exchange another look, worried this time, but before they can open their mouths, Santana answers for them. “Of course! Feel free to explore as much as you want.” She smirks at Rachel, who rolls her eyes.  
   
“Sweet!” He starts to get up from his seat, but Rachel holds her hand up.  
   
“Wait! Before we finish, I'd like to make a toast.” She clears her throat.  
   
“Here we go,” Santana mutters, but she reaches for her glass anyway.  
   
“I'm going to try to keep this short,” she began. “But I just want to say how proud I am of each and every one of us for leaving Lima and making our dreams come true. Some of us are much closer to attaining those dreams than others--” She pauses, inclining her head bashfully. “-- but we have all taken strides to get where we want to be. Even you Quinn. Your administrative prowess in no way invalidates your talent as an actor, even if you haven't had that talent validated like I have. ”  
   
Quinn blinks. “Thank you.”  
   
“You're welcome. Here's to hoping that someday, not too far off in the future, we will be celebrating all your first major achievements as well. To us!”  
   
“To us!” everyone repeats.  
   
Soon after, everything is cleared away, and the group returns to the living area, this time with the addition of Kurt in Blaine's lap. Rachel suggests that they sing a little, just for old time's sake. They all agree enthusiastically, and after a small discussion, are all loudly belting out “We Are the Champions”. Blaine gently pushes Kurt up to dance, and soon, Puck and Rachel are joining them. Mike and Quinn reach their hands out to Santana and she too finally gives him and gets up from the armchair, and they all dance and laugh together.  
   
Eventually, they collapse back down onto their seats. Puck tilts his head back over the top of the sofa, scrutinizing the ceiling, then turns to look at Santana. “Hey, do you mind if I stay here tonight? I haven't booked a hotel yet, and I want to take a closer look at the loft.”  
   
Santana smiles sweetly. “Whatever you want, Puck.”  
   
“Actually,” Rachel says excitedly. “Why don't all of you stay? We only have the one sofa, but we're all mature adults here, and I have no issues with sharing a bed with either of you.”  
   
Quinn looks hesitant. “I wouldn't want to impose on you...”  
   
Santana cuts in. “Oh come on, we've shared a bed before, it's no big deal. You can sleep in my room, Mike and Rachel can share, and Puck can have the couch. And the Bobbsey twins over there can sleep together as usual.”  
   
Mike shrugs. “The hotels here _are_ pretty expensive...”  
   
“Exactly!” Rachel exclaims, and looks imploringly at Quinn.  
   
“C'mon, Quinn,” Blaine says. “Spending the night with friends, not having to worry about checking out on time, free breakfast...”  
   
Quinn sighs. “Fine. I'll stay. Thank you.”  
   
Rachel squeals and runs up to hug her. Puck claps his hands and heads to the kitchen to explore. Kurt watches him go warily, then helps Mike move his and Quinn's luggage to their respective bedrooms.  
   
*  
   
A loud crash jolts Blaine awake. He jumps, grabbing Kurt's arm and looking around frantically for the source of the noise. The only thing that seems to have been moved are the magazines on the bedside table, which are now scattered the floor. There's a low groan, and he instinctively squeezes Kurt's arm.  
   
“Hmm?” Kurt snuffles a bit, then slowly sits up. “What's wrong?”  
   
Mike's head slowly comes up into view, and Blaine finally releases his grip on Kurt. Kurt gives Mike a confused look.  
   
“Mike? What are doing here?”  
   
Mike groans again, cradling his head in his hands. “I just took a shower, but I forgot which room was Rachel's. And then I tripped on your hat stand trying to sneak out without waking you guys up. Sorry about that.” He rubs his head, coughing a few times, then gets up to collect the strewn magazines. Kurt and Blaine stare at him awkwardly while he works. When he finishes, he turns with a slight grimace to give them a little wave, then leaves.  
   
There's a beat of silence.  
   
“Well then,” Kurt says. He blinks a few times, then lies back down in bed, sighing. “That was interesting.” He turns to Blaine. “What time is it?”  
   
“Just a little before nine.” He yawns. “I should probably get up and start on breakfast. You sleep in for a bit.” He leans down for a quick, closed-mouth kiss, and Kurt hums in appreciation. Blaine smiles at him and heads toward the bathroom. Finding it empty, he takes a quick shower, then pokes his head back into the bedroom. Kurt has sprawled out across the bed, chest rising and falling slowly as he sleeps. His eyelids twitch, and Blaine closes the partition again as quietly as possible. He heads to the kitchen, only to find Quinn and Rachel already there, piling toast onto a plate.  
   
“Good morning. Do you need help with that?”  
   
Quinn smiles at him. “Good morning.” She carefully hands him the plate of toast to bring to the table.  
   
“So I guess you guys didn't feel like sleeping in?” he asks.  
   
Rachel shrugs. “I decided not to do my vocal exercises this morning seeing as we have guests, but my internal clock was insisting that I get up bright and early as usual.”  
   
Quinn laughs. “Yeah, I'm used to getting up early for lectures. Besides, Santana's not exactly the best person to share a bed with. She's a bit of a cuddler.”  
   
It's Blaine's turn to laugh. Quinn places miscellaneous spreads out onto the table, and the three of them sit down to eat. Mike joins them not soon after, apologizing again for his mistake that morning, but Blaine brushes it off, and they eat in relative silence.  
   
A few minutes later, Santana emerges from her room, yawning loudly, followed by Puck.  
   
“Weren't you sleeping on the couch?” Blaine asks.  
   
“Yeah, I just went into Santana's room to make sure there weren't any loose floorboards or whatever.” He plops down into a chair grabs some toast and peanut butter. “There weren't. It's pretty much impossible to hide anything here.” He sighs.  
   
Blaine opens his mouth to tell him that it wouldn't be safe to have loose floorboards as they're on the second floor of the building, when Kurt pulls back the partition to his room. “Blaine, did you move my brooches?”  
   
Blaine furrows his eyebrows. “No. Are they missing?”  
   
Kurt shakes his head. “Just one.” He turns to Mike. “Did you happen to see it on the floor when you came in this morning?”  
   
Mike shakes his head. “I wasn't really paying attention.” He winces. “Sorry again.”  
   
Blaine waves off his apology. “Mike, it's fine. Look, why don't we all just have some breakfast first, and I'll help you look for it later?”  
   
“I'll help too” Puck chimes in.  
   
“Just ask your fairy godmother to get you another one,” Santana says around a bite of her apple. “On that note, ask her for something for me, too.”  
   
Kurt ignores her. “I guess,” he sighs, and slides into the empty chair next to Blaine. Blaine reaches over and places a hand on his thigh, rubbing gently, using his other hand to grab him some toast and a butter knife. Before long, the subject of the brooch is dropped, as Puck wonders aloud why Mike was in Kurt's room so early in the morning.  
   
*  
   
Afterwards, they head back to their room to search for the brooch. Kurt goes through their drawers, while Blaine searches under the bed and desk. Puck corrals the rest of the group into helping too, and they all reluctantly agree. Rachel rearranges all their plates and kitchen utensils in an effort to find it, but to no avail. Mike looks in the bathroom but only comes up with one of Santana's earrings. Santana and Quinn search the living area, but don't get far before Santana stumbles, and accuses Quinn of trying to trip her. Quinn replies that she did not, but that Santana shouldn't be going through other people's luggage without their permission. Puck, despite being the one to instigate the search, is decidedly unhelpful, following everyone around and pointing out places that he'd looked at the night before.  
   
“Where could it be?” Kurt sighs, as they all gather in the living room. He pulls idly at the couch's armrest, looking around the room as if he expects the brooch to magically appear.  
   
“What does it look like again?” Quinn asks.  
   
“It's a [bronze, eight point star with a pearl in the middle](http://cdn-i3.farfetch.com/10/37/64/74/10376474_2263954_1000.jpg). Hardly something you'd miss.” He sighs again. “It's a vintage brooch by Yves Saint Laurent. How could I lose something like that?”  
   
“Well, I'm sure that if we keep looking, we'll find it eventually,” says Rachel soothingly. “In the meantime, I wouldn't be at all offended if you chose to wear an accessory by a less prominent designer to the showcase tonight.”  
   
Kurt huffs out a laugh. “Thanks, Rachel.” He reaches over to take her hand.  
   
“You know,” Puck says suddenly. “If this Yves guy is pretty famous, maybe someone stole it.”  
   
Both Kurt and Rachel stiffen.  
   
“No way,” Blaine says. “There are seven of us in a loft that's only divided by curtains. One of us would've noticed if someone broke in.”  
   
“Unless,” Rachel says slowly, leaning forward. Kurt winces as her nails dig into his hand. “It was an inside job.” Her eyes narrow.  
   
“What?”  
   
“Exactly!” Puck exclaims. “It's classic. Someone needs some quick cash, so they steal some jewellery to pawn. Obviously, they'd go for Kurt since he works at a fancy fashion website and would totally have expensive stuff. And then once it's gone, it'll be impossible to find again; there must be hundreds of pawn shops in New York.”  
   
“Or,” Rachel interrupts. “They could take it back home with them and pawn it there, completely throwing everyone off their scent.” Puck nods enthusiastically in agreement.  
   
“C'mon guys,” Blaine says loudly. “We're all friends here. None of us would do that.”  
   
“Or maybe,” Santana interjects. “Anderson got jealous that someone else was giving his boy toy some bling.”  
   
Kurt rolls his eyes. “Don't be ridiculous, Santana. Blaine knew I got it from Isabelle.”  
   
Santana makes a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Well, maybe he forgot.”  
   
Blaine opens his mouth to retort but thinks better of it. Instead he says, “Look, this is stupid. Why don't we just take a break?” He turns to Mike, Quinn, and Puck. “Do you guys wanna go out and explore New York? I know you've been here before, but there's this wonderful little deli down by --”  
   
“Wait just a minute, Blaine,” Rachel says authoritatively. She stands up and quickly paces to the door of the loft. “No one is leaving until the brooch is found. We can't risk someone pawning it off to someone who'll sell it before we get a chance to retrieve it.”  
   
Kurt sighs. “Rachel, this isn't --”  
   
“No, Kurt, it is! We all came together for the joyous occasion of my first step into the world of stardom, and now someone has selfishly decided to ruin that with his or her greed. I will not stand by and watch my best friend be taken advantage of in this way!”  
“Nice going, Puck,” Quinn mutters.  
   
“Now,” Rachel continues. “Our first course of action is to interview the suspects.” She turns abruptly to Puck. “What did you do last night after we'd all gone to bed?”  
   
“Whoa, why would I steal any of Kurt's stuff?”  
   
“You _did_ mention that no one was buying any of your screenplays,” Mike says sheepishly.  
   
“Well – I – that's not the point,” Puck stammers. “Kurt and I are bros. Besides, how would I even know which pin to take?”  
   
“That,” Rachel crows, “would not have mattered to you. You knew Kurt worked at Vogue.com and you knew that any of his brooches were likely to be valuable. And” she continues before Puck can defend himself. “You were snooping around the house doing 'research' for your screenplay. Well, how do we know that you aren't writing your screenplay _right now_? Stealing a brooch and then watching all of our reactions would be the perfect inspiration for your film. _Am I right_?”  
   
Santana whistles. “Go Berry.” She smiles at Puck. “Better give it up, Puckerman.”  
   
“Whoa, hold on now,” Puck says angrily. He turns to Kurt. “C'mon man, you don't think I did this, do you?”  
   
Kurt exhales slowly, closing his eyes. He opens them again and says firmly, “I don't think anyone in this loft stole anything. Now can we please stop overreacting?”  
   
“See?” Puck exclaims, ignoring Kurt's second statement. “He doesn't even think it was me.” He crosses his arms. “And how do I know, _you_ didn't take it Rachel?”  
   
“Because Kurt and I are platonic soulmates and I would never do anything to intentionally hurt him.” She smiles at Kurt, who rolls his eyes, but smiles back. “Besides, as Mike can attest to, I never left my room last night. Mike?”  
   
Mike nods. “She would've woken me up if she had. I'm a pretty light sleeper.”  
   
“Santana left her room last night,” Quinn pipes in. Santana narrows her eyes at her.  
   
“And how would you have know that unless _you_ were also awake and snooping?”  
   
Quinn rolls her eyes. “I needed to go to the bathroom. I woke up and you weren't there.”  
   
“Well, I went to the kitchen to get a snack.” She shrugs. “No offence Hummel, but your fancy rice wasn't exactly filling.”  
   
Kurt's mouth twitches. “None taken,” he says dryly.  
   
Rachel narrows her eyes at the two of them. “What's going on between you two?”  
   
Quinn and Santana exchange a glance. “Nothing,” Santana says dismissively.  
   
“So you two aren't dating?” Mike blurts out.  
   
Rachel gasps. “What?”  
   
Mike shrinks back a little under her gaze. “I saw them going up to a hotel room at Mr. Schue's failed wedding. I just figured...”  
   
“That was a one time thing,” Quinn says firmly. “We were drunk.”  
   
“Actually, I think it was a two time thing,” Santana corrects her smugly. Quinn opens her mouth, but closes it again, and shrugs.  
   
“Look, now that we've all been accounted for --” Blaine begins.  
   
“Hey, no we haven't!” Puck says, sitting up. He looks at Mike. “Where were _you_ last night?”  
   
“I... was sleeping?”  
   
Puck shakes his head. “Can you prove it? You said yourself Rachel slept like a baby last night. And she's a pretty heavy sleeper. How do we know --”  
   
“Because I'm just as good a friend to Kurt as you are,” Mike replies defensively. “ _And_ I have a job lined up for next year, so I wouldn't need the money anyway.”  
   
“Yeah, _next year_ ,” Puck says triumphantly. “You don't start until --”  
   
“Oh drop it, Puck.” Santana says, exasperated. “We all know you took it, so why don't you just give it back, so we can be done with this?”  
   
“I didn't take it!” Puck shouts. “Blaine, c'mon, help me out here. You believe me, right?”  
   
Blaine looks at Puck, then Mike, who is also staring at him beseechingly. Next to him, Kurt, whose head is now propped up against his hand, is staring blankly at the floor. Blaine shrugs. “You guys wanna order some pizza or...”  
   
*  
   
They each make their requests and the order is placed. When there's a knock on the door, Blaine gets up to pay, but a glare from Rachel has him sitting down again. She looks pointedly at Kurt, who sighs and takes Blaine's wallet from him. The rest of the group sit in a tense silence. Rachel and Puck are stealing furtive glances at everyone, narrowing their eyes at random intervals. Santana seems to be fascinated with her own hair. Quinn is calmly reading on her tablet, while Mike seems the most anxious, tapping his fingers restlessly against his legs. Blaine watches Kurt as he pays, then, ignoring Puck's suspicious stare, gets up to help him carry the food and set it on the coffee table.  
   
“Dig in, guys,” Kurt say distractedly. There is a bit of shuffling as the boxes and cartons are opened, and the drinks distributed, but soon, everything is quiet again for awhile.  
   
“So,” Rachel says suddenly, and Blaine stumbles while reaching for another slice of pizza. “We've started establishing everyone's alibis. But we haven't finished yet.” She puts down her pasta and folds her lands primly in her lap. “Blaine, can anyone vouch for your whereabouts last night?”  
   
Blaine stares blankly back at her. “I... was in bed with Kurt. Rachel, why am I a suspect?”  
   
“You're not,” she reassures him. “But we have to be thorough. Now Kurt, can you confirm that Blaine spent the entire evening in bed with you? Kurt?”  
   
Kurt stares at Blaine, eyebrows furrowing. Blaine squirms. “Kurt?” he says tentatively. He reaches out and gently places a hand on his shoulder.  
   
Kurt blinks, as if taken out of a trance. A smile slowly spreads across his face.  
   
“Santana. Take off your boots.”  
   
Santana opens her mouth, but quickly snaps it shut again. Sighing dramatically, she reaches down to remove her boots. Kurt walks over to her and turns them upside down.  
   
Something bronze clatters to the floor.  
   
Exclamations erupt from the group.  
   
“Santana! How could you?” Rachel shrieks, while Mike splutters, “Wait, what just happened?”  
   
Kurt picks up the brooch, pins it to his shirt, and seats himself back in the beanbag chair with Blaine. He picks up his own discarded slice of pizza and takes a large bite, grinning. Blaine watches him, confused.  
   
“Kurt,” he says again, slowly. Kurt turns to look at him, still smiling as he takes a sip of water. “I... how did you do that?”  
   
“By using logic.” He puts down his drink and clears his throat. Everyone stops talking and turns to look at him. “I have to say, Satan, that your plan was pretty clever. I don't know whether it was a spur of the moment idea or if you'd been planning it for weeks, but it did its job.”  
   
Santana flipped her hair back. “It was a spur of the moment deal. Obviously.”  
   
“Wait, what _job_ did it do?” Rachel asks. “She never got the chance to pawn it off!”  
   
“Rachel, why would I need extra cash?” Santana replies, rolling her eyes. “I have a job.”  
   
“Then what --”  
   
Kurt talks over her. “Now, despite what Rachel and Puck thought, I knew none of you were in need of money, or would steal the brooch for that reason; not even Santana. We're all friends here, so even if you _did_ need help, you'd just ask. Which meant there had to be a different reason for the brooch getting stolen.”  
   
“How did you figure out?” Mike asks.  
   
“Well, for one thing, Santana actually agreed with Rachel for once.” He smirks. “She's been annoyed with her all week because she wouldn't stop talking about the film that she's in; so why the sudden change of heart? I started thinking back to what we talked about last night and this morning, trying to figure out if anyone said anything suspicious. And she did.”  
   
Santana raises an eyebrow at him. “You told me to ask Isabelle to buy me a new brooch. Not Blaine, or Rachel, or my dad; _Isabelle_. I've gotten a lot of gifts from different people, especially Blaine. And, I'm just an intern; Isabelle has no reason to give me anything at all. I only got the brooch as a 'thank you' for helping her with the NYC Ballet Gala, and since then, I haven't done anything that prestigious. So why would you assume I got it from her? I hadn't described the brooch yet when you made that comment, so that couldn't have been what tipped you off – which meant you already knew the specific piece that was missing. And the only way for you to know that, would've been if _you_ were the one to have taken it in the first place.  
   
Finding it was the hardest part. There are enough of us that if the thief tried to steer us off course, at least one of us would've become suspicious.”  
   
“But Quinn was the one who wouldn't let Santana look into her luggage,” Puck points out.  
   
“No, she wouldn't let her look into _Mike's_ luggage _without his permission_. Unless she was working with him, she had nothing to hide. Besides, Quinn's smart enough not to be _that_ obvious.” He nods in her direction. She smiles and gives a small shrug. Santana scowls at her.  
   
He continues.“Quinn also isn't the type to physically sabotage someone. Psychologically, yes, but not physically. But, that doesn't change the fact that Santana tripped while they were searching. It couldn't have been an accident; she practically lives in her heels. She couldn't have been startled by a loud noise, otherwise we would've heard it too. It didn't make sense.  
   
None of us could find the brooch, but none of left the loft either. That meant that the brooch was still here, but in a place where we hadn't looked. And I finally realized -- we didn't search _each other_.  
   
How easy would it have been for someone to slip the brooch into their back pocket? The only problem would be that the pin, not to mention the points of the star itself, might prick or otherwise be uncomfortable.”  
   
“So Santana tripped because the brooch pricked her leg,” Blaine realizes. “And then she blamed Quinn to try and make her look suspicious?”  
   
Kurt nods. “Exactly.”  
   
“But _why_?” Rachel persists. “If she didn't need the money, then why did she take it? I mean, it's not like you two are fighting any more than usual lately.”  
   
Blaine agrees. “ Yeah, Santana's mostly been fighting with...” He pauses. “Actually, she's mostly been fighting with you.”  
   
Kurt nods again. “I'm guessing she was tired of hearing about your movie and wanted a change of subject.”  
   
Rachel's mouth drops open and turns to glare at Santana, who ignores her in favour of staring at Kurt and Blaine with a mildly proud expression. “Yeah, yeah, you figured it out. Try not to be too loud during the celebratory sex.”  
   
Kurt's eyebrows raise. “We won't,” he replies flatly. He turns to Rachel. “Anyway, Rachel,” he says cheerfully. “ Speaking of your film, I seem to have forgotten quite a few details about what happened to some of the past participants of the NYADA Summer Film Festival. Would you mind refreshing my memory?”  
   
The rest of the group attempts to stifle their giggles as Santana groans.


End file.
